


For Want of A Nail

by Nightdog_Barks



Category: House M.D.
Genre: Angst, Episode Related, Gen, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-04-06
Updated: 2007-04-06
Packaged: 2017-10-18 04:39:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/185084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightdog_Barks/pseuds/Nightdog_Barks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>House wins, in a way he wished he hadn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Want of A Nail

_  
**Houseficlet: For Want of A Nail**   
_   
**WARNING: While this is pure speculation on my part, it contains specific spoilers for future episodes. If you don't want to be spoiled, don't click the cut.**

 **STATUS:** Unpublished.  
 **TITLE:** For Want of A Nail  
 **AUTHOR:** [](http://nightdog-writes.livejournal.com/profile)[**nightdog_writes**](http://nightdog-writes.livejournal.com/)  
 **PAIRING:** House-Wilson  
 **RATING:** A soft "R" for some rough language.  
 **WARNINGS:** None specifically. However, while this is not a death!fic, it is about the death of something important.  
 **SPOILERS:** Yes, for multiple future episodes.  
 **SUMMARY:** House wins, in a way he wished he hadn't.  
 **DISCLAIMER:** Don't own 'em. Never will. Also do not own any part of the great American writer Dorothy Parker, one of whose classic lines I have used in this story.  
 **AUTHOR NOTES:** I spotted a way to put several spoilers together and create a story. I have no idea if this is the direction the actual show will go in but to me it seemed plausible.  
 **BETA:** Nope.

  
 **For Want of A Nail**

  
"Guess you thought that was pretty funny, didn't you?"

House jerks a little in surprise, then realizes there's really only one person who would be here in his apartment this late at night. He finishes taking off his jacket and sets his keys down on the entryway desk.

"What? Bringing your bondage chick to the play? Yeah, actually I did. You know what they say about working girls and the arts -- you can lead a whore to culture but you can't make her think."

"Her name's Robin," Wilson replies softly.

"And you're Batman, of course," House says sourly. Why hadn't Wilson turned on any of the damn lights? "The hero, all set to rescue the hooker with a heart of gold from a life of prostitution on the mean, mean streets."

"Fuck you, House."

"Too late," House sings out. "Robin already did." He fumbles for a moment, finally finds the switch for the lamp at the end of the sofa. Both men blink in the sudden light.

"Wasn't going to marry her," Wilson murmurs. "She was just somebody to talk to."

House rolls his eyes. "Right," he growls. "For $300 an hour you could've been talking to a _real_ therapist."

Wilson makes a harsh sound that under other circumstances might have been a laugh, and it's not until then that House notices the open bottle of scotch on the coffee table, a half-empty glass beside it.

"Wouldn't have been as much fun," he says. "She tells good stories."

"Yeah? She tell any of those stories to Cuddy?"

The flash of exasperation on Wilson's face is swiftly replaced by one of weariness, and House frowns a little. Wilson looks pale, and tired to the bone.

"Don't know," Wilson says. "I'm sure you'll be disappointed to learn I didn't follow them into the ladies' room to eavesdrop."

"More the fool you," House mutters, trying to gauge how much Wilson's had to drink already. "I hear that's where all the really good stuff goes down." He smirks at Wilson and flops down on the couch next to him. "In a manner of speaking, of course."

Wilson reaches for the glass, but House grabs it away before he can wrap his fingers around it. The condensation ring on the wooden table shimmers in the lamplight.

"What are you trying to do to me, House?" Wilson asks softly.

House swipes at the wet circle with his sleeve. "Keeping you from getting drunk and maudlin?"

"No. Why are you taking away all my friends?"

"She wasn't your friend."

Wilson ignores him. "Wendy was a friend. Robin could've been a friend. I'd become friends with Bonnie again." Wilson's brown eyes lock onto House's. "I take Cuddy to a play, and you bring Robin to the same play to try and humiliate me. Why?"

House is silent, and after a moment Wilson answers his own question.

"You always want everything on your own terms. Everything, all the time." He leans forward, rests his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. "Or is this some kind of punishment? If it is, I wish you'd tell me for what. For lying to you about the cortisol treatment? For the Tritter mess? What?" Wilson's left hand comes down suddenly, smacking the table hard. _"What?"_

The slap of Wilson's palm on the table echoes like a gunshot, and for the second time that night House jumps. Wilson cradles his hand against his chest, wincing at the sting.

"I slept with her," he says, and House rouses himself.

"Everybody sleeps with her." His voice is rough. "She's a hooker."

Wilson shakes his head. "Not Robin. Cuddy." The brown eyes turn on House's again. "She asked me not to use a condom."

House is frozen, staring at him.

"I can't do this anymore, House. You're taking my advice and reconnecting, but you won't allow me the same freedom. I've become you -- trapped and miserable in a lonely little room." Wilson rubs tiredly at his eyes. "Here," he says. "Thought I'd return this." One hand fishes in his pocket; House's spare apartment key lands on the coffee table with a hollow ring, and Wilson stands up. He steps around House and heads for the door, but hesitates with his hand on the doorknob.

"I stopped by the hospital tonight," he says. "But I thought I'd tell you first. My resignation's on Cuddy's desk. I've accepted the directorship of the new oncology research wing with Vancouver General, starting in two weeks." The doorknob turns. "'Night, House."

House is left sitting by himself. After a moment he picks up the bottle of scotch and takes a long pull from it, wincing at the burn in his throat.

He has the distinct feeling that he's won the battle, but lost the war.

  
~ fin

 _SPOILERS:_

Wilson calls a high-class escort named Robin and tells her to call him "James."  
House talks to Wilson's second ex-wife, Bonnie.  
House gives Wilson a pair of theatre tickets; Wilson invites Cuddy and House shows his jealousy in an "unexpected way."  
The title of episode 3.23 is "Resignation."

 _NOTE:_

The line "You can lead a whore to culture but you can't make her think" is by the great American writer Dorothy Parker.


End file.
